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| A Case of Mistaken Identity; A Hit on Dom | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 28 2013, 05:55 AM (160 Views) | |
| AndyMcLucky | Jun 28 2013, 05:55 AM Post #1 |
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IC Location:
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"Are you sure this is the place?" Andy pondered, his cleaver in hand, it's stainless steel gleaming in the light. His eyes scanning the hallway, the hotel seemed oddly quiet and souless. He could imagine it back when they weren't used to house the scum of the world, but now descrated and demolished is the spirit of it. It all smelled of animalistic fervor that all human's have in their hearts. That part they control to keep themselves from becoming the wolf that stalk the evening forests, but even wolves can be tamed. "I'm sure of it. The informant told me that this is the room of one of Scarface's men, we go in there and beat his ass. Get some info, and some revenge too." Gilly spoke with a smile, from ear to ear and her hands seemed to tighten around her chair leg club with eagerness. Andy didn't like the way she enjoyed the prospect of revenge, like Ruth said one time. Retribution is not revenge. He lent out his hand, gripping her shoulder, her smirk melted into a frown. Her brown eyes stared in his, and she lowered her gaze. "I trust you, Gilly. We're here together, we'll get through this together." He replied, and her demeanor lifted. They both smiled as they embraced, with Andy making sure to keep his cleaver and switchblade away from her as much as possible. He whispered something in her ear, "Listen, let's go get some info." Andy and Gilly simultaneously started to bash their boots against the door; the rotting decrepit wood cracked and fractured as they crumbled the door in one kick. A man sat on his couch, his mouth full of funyuns, his skin ruddy and pale. His eyes confused at this intrusion, and then towards his bed. There laid something that was covered in barbed wire, as he made his dash for it Andy sprinted towards the bed guarding it with both blades, and when he just made it across to him. The man's face sounded with brutal cracks and grunting, he was knocked back onto his own ass. Gilly proceeded to wail on him with her club, her swings aiming towards his gut. He grunted as he took blow after blow. He grabbed the club and ripped it from her grip, he tripped her with it. She tried to get her club back with both her hands wrapped against the chair leg. The man smashed the club against her face. Andy screamed in anger, he buried his switchblade deep into the man's chest while he was distracted. The man's face was red and in pain, his mouth agape Andy took his cleaver and took it to his face. A sickening moment later, and Andy couldn't pull his weapon out of his skull. He breathed deeply as he sat on the corpse of the man, his hands rubbing against eyes. Gilly stood, she was a bit dazed and she felted her face. Her nose was broken, she too breathed longingly. Andy traced her jawline to her chin with his fingers, and he kissed her.
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| Dominic Kastelic | Jun 28 2013, 07:13 AM Post #2 |
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Funyun Connoisseur
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Dominic sat on his small, poorly made loveseat that was pressed against his knee-high minifridge, with a large televion resting on it. He clutched his bag of gluten free Funnyuns, admiring the orange sunset over his concrete balcony, free of the plastic chairs that he'd removed a week prior by dropping them from the fifth floor onto a squatter. Setting down the delicious Onion Flavored Rings (tm), Dominic picked up his new pair of wire-snippers and used began to use their sharpened head to clean his nails, wanting to stay as fabulous as possible for any future bareknuckle boxing matches. He'd clip them all off, making sure to save the ones that weren't caked with dry blood to chew on later, a habit he'd developed in lieu of smoking a pack of cigarettes a day. Once he was sure he was clean, Dominic rested his head back on the arm of the loveseat, leaving the wire-snippers close so that he could clip his toe nails once he removed his steel toed boots after his quick nap. After a mere five minutes of relatively peaceful slumber, there was a banging sound at the door, causing Dominic to slightly wake up from his daze. A single kick later and a foot went clean through the center of the rotted out door, prompting Dominic to stand and pick up the closest sharp object with his left hand; the wire-snippers. The door burst open as the weak wood gave way, a man in a brown trench coat standing with two shining pieces of metal in his hands. The man charged the unprepared Dominic down the narrow hall with a forward stab with his right hand, the gleaming knife in said hand sliding straight in to hit Dominic along the beltline. The knife hit Dominic close to the hip, causing his white tank-top to quickly grow a red spot. With a groan of pain, Dominic grabbed the man's right wrist, still trying to dig the knife out, and held on tightly with a vice grip to cope with the sharp pain. Dominic scarcely had time to recover as the man used his right hand to make an overhand strike with a much, much bigger piece of metal. The former boxer instinctively raised his left hand, keeping a closed grip on his wire-snippers, to form his standard philly shell defense, causing the fingers of the man's hand to whip against the back of Dominic's wrist, the blade only slightly cutting the back of Dominic's arm. The two continued to fight for control of the man's right hand, and thus, knife, in the narrow hallway entrance when Dominic noticed a smaller being held behind the man by the narrow wall, brandishing a wooden club, and thought it was high time to finish his first attacker off. As the man in the brown trenchcoat brought his right hand back again for a haymaker swing, Dominic jabbed in with his wire snippers, hitting him square in the Adam's apple, a place Dominic had punched before to gain the upper hand in boxing matches. The tiny, sharp head went in clean, leaving a large puncture wound that caused the man to lurch, blood running down the front of his chest before he coughed the thick, deep maroon mixture onto Dominic's face. The woman behind the now dying man yelped out as the drab yellow wallpaper was splattered with blood, and Dominic was close to losing his lunch. The felon twisted his wrist, making the puncture ever larger before he pulled the wire-snippers out of the man's gushing throat, letting him drop onto the queen sized mattress, releasing his grip on the knife that was embedded in Dominic's beltline, the red spot not growing further. Dominic, however, took little time to notice this as the man's paramour screamed at Dominic, giving a wild swing with her short club from her right shoulder to swipe across the felon's face. Dominic's practiced head movement saved him as he pulled his entire torso back, the tip of the club brushing against his nose, giving a crack as the cartilage at the tip of it broke, sending a pain through Dominic that caused him to drop the bloody wire-snippers. The club still went full swing and bit into the wall right of Dominic, smacking a flowery glass wall sconce, sending shards of glass spraying across the room. Dominic didn't want to hit a woman, but he had no further choice. The large felon leaped forward with a battle cry, tacking the woman as she kept her right arm up, club still up, stuck in the metal of the cheap wall sconce. The momentum of the tackle sent them both in a wrestling heap into the small bathroom, the woman's back hitting the porcelain toilet with a crack, the force of the hit sending the wooden club clattering across the linoleum floor. Unfortunately for Dominic, the knife went but deeper into his hip, but he knew, as he had yet to bleed out, that it did not hit anything major, and paled in comparison to pain of his formerly ruptured spleen. Dominic grabbed the woman's hair tightly with his empty left hand, and smashed her head against the edge of the sink/counter just to the right of the porcelain toilet. The woman flailed at the large felon, screaming with her weak punches to his chest and shoulders until she finally succumbed to the savage beating, the side of her head splitting on the edge of the counter with a splash of gore. Dominic gave the likely dead woman a few jabs to the face with his right hand for good measure as he clutched her hair with his beefy left hand, fracturing her nose. When Dominic was certain that the woman had perished, he took a few moments to catch his breath before rushing to the medicine cabinet, whipping out a gauze patch band-aide that he put to the side for a moment. Ever so gently, the felon worked the knife out of his hip, groaning in pain like a bantamweight boxer until he finally got the blade out of his beltline. Dominic turned on the sink, cupping warm water in his hands that he ran across his wound before drying it with his white tank-top. He then proceeded to slap the gauze band-aide on the wound, knowing that he'd need to find a real doctor later. However, he had more pressing matters currently. Still in a fit of rage, Dominic stomped out into the main area of his small hotel room to look down at the man that was dying on the bed, both hands clutching his throat as it gushed a steady stream of blood onto the pristine lemon colored sheets. The man stared up at Dominic, as if begging for help while retaining his original anger that started this scuffle. Dominic had no mercy to give the man who had attacked him without reason, and the felon picked up the heavy, outdated television set that sat on his white minifridge, yanking the cords out with it. He walked with heavy steps to the side of his soiled bed, staring down into the man's eyes as the life drained from them. With a sigh, Dominic raised the hefty television set over his head, and crashed it down on the dying man's head. The man's nose was crushed back into his head from the weight of the T.V, and skull fragments were sent into his pained brain, ending any feeling that the bleeding man was coping with in an instant. Dominic felt as though he'd done the man a service and quickly picked up the television set, leaving a blanket of black glass on the bed along with the blood, bone, and brain that was already coating it. The face of the television was completely smashed and it was useless for anything more than scrap now. The felon set the useless T.V on his night stand, heading over to slide open the door to his small balcony. Dominic then made his way back to the corpse on his bed and quickly wrapped it up in the lemon yellow blanket, creating a makeshift body bag. He hoisted up the lighter man's body over his shoulder and groaned as he carried it out onto the balcony before tossing it haphazardly into the middle of the paved street, the crunching noise it emitted ringing clearly up past the fifth floor of the hotel. The felon went back to the bathroom and picked up the corpse of the other attacker and, with a sigh, lifted what was left of her over his head, doing the same with her what he did to the male attacker. When the entire session of body dumping was through, Dominic sat back on his loveseat, panting hard. He pulled the sweat and blood drenched tank-top up over his head and tossed it aside, feeling far too uncomfortable with its stickiness. Dominic looked to his right for his snack, picking them up and setting them on his lap. The felon proceeded to munch away on the contents of the bag as the sun set over the island and Dominic was able to sleep soundly that night, his arms weak and his belly full of delicious Funyuns. |
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| Dominic Kastelic | Jun 28 2013, 07:25 AM Post #3 |
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Funyun Connoisseur
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| Manbearpig | Jun 28 2013, 01:31 PM Post #4 |
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Administrator
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Even though you forgot to submit this for a grade MBP is going to step in and judge. (But please submit the hit for a grade next time )Andy you showed heart, nest time start your hit with a statement of your IC reasons for the hit. Just a line at the top that says IC Reason : and then a sentence or two explaining in brief what you will go into more in the opening of the hit. Also you used way too many pronouns was the attack got underway, it was hard to know who was doing what. Dom you brought the thunder. You did a little give and take, and I felt the brutality of the situation. You showed advanced hit defense tactics, using everything left vague by Andy to your advantage. THE WINNER OF THIS HIT IS DOM. Andy you are the first character to die on PLU. Dom as to your Requests Old Knife (Always Equipped On Andy)- A rusted to shit old switchblade. It has the name "Marcus" scratched into it. Approved X1 Cleaver (Always Equipped on Andy) Approved X1 Chair leg (Equipped on Gilly) Approved Also Dom those wounds and tropical weather do not mix. You have 48 hours to see a doctor or you'll risk getting an infection. |
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